Rahab
by autumnrose2010
Summary: Rahab had never seen the two men before but she intuitively knew that she could trust them. After the destruction of her home city of Jericho, she begins a new life amongst their people, the Hebrews.
1. Waiting

_A/N: The story of Rahab can be found in the second chapter of Joshua and also verses 22-25 of the sixth chapter of Joshua._

I have long known that my city of Jericho will be judged for its wickedness. All manner of perversion and depravity, up to and including human sacrifice, have been happening here for as long as I can remember, and I know that someday it will be held accountable. As soon as I see the two unfamiliar men, I know that the day of reckoning is at hand.

"I am Salmon, and this is Caleb," one of the two men tells me. "We are of the Hebrews and have been sent to observe the goings-on in your city. Will you be so kind as to provide us with lodging for the night?"

I have heard of the Hebrew people. They are desert nomads, always moving from place to place, with a man named Moses as their leader. They worship one invisible God who has given them a list of moral and ethical rules to live by.

"You are welcome to stay here," I tell the two Hebrews. They thank me, and I lead them to their quarters. They are barely settled when I hear the sound of heavy footsteps outside.

"Soldiers!" I whisper frantically. "Quick! You must hide!" I lead them to the roof of my dwelling, where I hide them under bundles of flax drying there. After the soldiers have gone, I return to tell them that it is now safe.

"We are most indebted to you," Salmon says to me. "However may we repay you?"

"Please, sir, when your people come to take the city, spare me and my family," I beg him.

He hands me a red cord. "Hang this from your window, and you and your family will be spared," he tells me.

I do as he says. Day and night the cord hangs from my window, awaiting the arrival of the Hebrews and, with them, the end of the only life I've ever known.


	2. Amongst Strangers

"It's time to leave!" Salmon whispers urgently. "Gather your loved ones now, before it's too late!"

Quickly I summon the others, and we leave the house for the final time. There's no opportunity to glance around, preserving memories. The ones we already have will have to do. We mount horses and, led by Salmon and Caleb, head for the encampments where the Hebrew women and children await the victorious return of their men.

Upon reaching the encampments at last, I am immediately seized by an overpowering sense of alienation. _I don't belong here. _Myself and my family members are all alone in the midst of strangers. Salmon takes only a moment to help us get settled before rejoining his countrymen.

The Hebrew women surround us, staring curiously, chattering in their language. I don't understand a word. Occasionally one of them touches me. I wince as if I've been struck.

Finally a woman who appears to be their leader gestures for us to follow her. She leads us to an empty tent, where she offers us food and water, which we gratefully accept.

The day wears on, and yet the men do not return. We become drowsy and nap inside the tent, within which we find comfortable rugs and pillows.

At last, near sundown, the men return. Their new leader, whose name I have learned is Joshua, speaks to them at length in their language. There is much shouting and rejoicing. My eyes scan the crowd for Salmon. I find him standing beside Caleb, both of them a little behind Joshua. His eyes meet mine. In them I see excitement, friendliness, curiosity, and something else which I'm not quite sure how to define.

As soon as Joshua finishes speaking, Salmon approaches me.

"Have you had a pleasant day?"

"It's gone quite well. We were fed and provided with shelter and accommodations."

He smiles. "I knew that you would be treated kindly. My people are good people, Rahab. You can trust them."

I believe him but still feel greatly comforted by his presence.

"The battle is finished," he continues. "We were victorious, but there is still much preparation to be done before we may inhabit it. It will take several days and is not the type of work a woman ought to do."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask.

He hesitates for a moment. "Only that much of the work is heavy and there would be risk of injury. Your father and brothers may join us if they want, but of course we wouldn't expect them too."

Suddenly I know the real reason he hesitated. Mass graves must be dug for unknown numbers of broken and bloody bodies to be tumbled into. Many are past or present acquaintances, childhood friends, even. I could not bear to see them like that, and Salmon understands.

"Is there anything more that you need?" he asks me.

"We are all fine, thank you," I tell him.

"I'll wish you good-night then, and see you in the morning before we leave." He smiles and briefly takes my hand into his own. It feels warm, comforting.

Will he really want to say good-bye to me before he returns to the destroyed city of Jericho to help prepare it for habitation tomorrow? I shall arise early just to be sure.


	3. A Home Of Our Own

Exhausted, I sleep well into the next morning. By the time I have awakened, the Hebrew men have already left to prepare my destroyed former city for habitation by their people, and the Hebrew women have already begun their daily tasks. Quickly my mother and sisters and I dress and help them with their chores. Over the course of the day, I gradually pick up smatterings of their language. I learn the words for 'morning', 'night', 'sleep', 'eat', 'clean', 'boy', 'girl', 'woman', and 'man.'

I also learn the name of the kind woman who helped us yesterday. Her name is Achsah, and she is the daughter of Caleb. She seems to have taken pity on us and teaches us the Hebrew way of performing ordinary daily tasks. Some things are done in a similar way to the way they were done in Jericho, but others are done differently.

They day passes very quickly, and in the late evening, the men return from their daily obligation. My eyes search for Salmon. I find him quickly, and he smiles. I feel a peculiar warmth every time I see him or even think of him. Something about the idea of being with him floods my inner being with happiness. I have never felt this way about a man before, and it frightens me a little, but excites me much more.

"Rahab!" he calls, hurrying to my side. As soon as he is close enough, I smell the smoke saturating his clothing.

"You burned the city," I guess.

Solemnly he nods. "We had to. Our God has commanded it, and whatever He commands, we must do."

Images fill my mind. Childhood memories of the markets. The fields. Neighbors' houses. The aroma of baking bread. Of fish cooking over a fire. Of freshly hewn wood.

When I look into Salmon's eyes, I see that they are full of compassion. The only life he has ever known has been that of a nomad wandering in the desert. Soon my former life will be his, and it will be mine again as well. Yet it will be not the same life as before, but a whole new and different life.

"I wanted to say good-bye to you this morning before we left, but you were fast asleep, and I didn't want to disturb you," he says apologetically.

"That's all right," I assure him. "I intended to arise earlier, but for some reason, I just didn't."

"That's understandable." He chuckles. "Yesterday had to have been rather difficult for you."

"I was just thankful to have escaped with my life," I tell him.

"I'm a man of my word," he says. "If I say I will do something, then I will do it."

"I learned some new words in your language today," I tell him.

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows in interest. I recite the new words to him. He laughs indulgently and pats my shoulder.

"You're catching on just fine," he compliments me.

I feel myself blushing slightly and hope that he doesn't notice.

We talk a bit more. I tell him of my activities of the day and a bit about what my life in Jericho was like.

"That must have been a real adventure, traveling from place to place as you have done up until now," I tell him. "I never even ventured outside the walls of my own city in my entire life!"

"It was interesting at times," he replies. "But for my entire life, my people have yearned for a permanent home of our own. Our God has promised it to us, and the time has come at last for the fruition of that promise."

I resolve to awaken earlier the next morning so that I can say good-bye to him before he leaves.


	4. Salmon's Story

At last the day arrives for us to leave the temporary encampment and move into our new home in what was formerly the city of Jericho. My heart pounds with anticipation as I join the others.

Once inside, I look around in shock and amazement. All vestiges of the Jericho I once knew are gone, down to the tiniest crumb. A vague feeling of melancholy settles over me. I feel the soft touch of a hand upon my own and turn to see Salmon at my side.

"It will not be like this for long," he tells me. "Already rebuilding efforts are underway, and soon it will be a thriving city once again."

"Tell me about your people, Salmon," I say. "Have they always been wanderers?"

"Oh, no." He smiles. "Long ago, in my grandfather's day, we were slaves in Egypt. The Pharaoh was a cruel man. Threatened by our numbers and fearing a revolt, he had all our male infants murdered at birth. All except one, the man Moses."

"Moses' mother saved him by hiding him in a basket in the bulrushes. Pharaoh's daughter found him and raised him as her own. When he was grown, he went before the Pharaoh to demand our freedom. Pharaoh refused, and our God sent ten plagues upon the people of Egypt. The final one was so horrific that at last he relented."

"What was it?"

"Moses commanded all the people of Israel to kill a lamb and smear its blood upon their doorpost. That night the angel of death swept over the land and took the firstborn of each family that did not have blood smeared on the doorpost."

"How terrible!" I gasp. Immediately my mind goes to the children of Jericho, all of them so recently perished, but in their case, with no one left to mourn them.

"Our God mourns them." It is as if Salmon has read my mind. "Any time one of His judgements involves the loss of innocent life, He mourns. He is a God of compassion as well as justice."

Another of the men shouts at Salmon at that point, telling him to stop dallying and get to work, no doubt.

"I must go," Salmon tells me. "When the day's work is done, I will tell you the rest of the story, lovely Rahab." I look forward eagerly to the continuation of the story of Salmon's people.

* * *

"The next part of the story is the most amazing of all," Salmon tells me. It is very late in the evening of the same day. I have just cleared away the remnants of the evening meal, and Salmon and I sit chatting comfortably around the fire. I feel as if I have known him for years.

"The Pharaoh changed his mind and sent his army to recapture the former slaves and bring them back. My people got as far as the Red Sea and thought that they were trapped, but God had a plan to save them. Moses stretched out his hand, and the sea parted to allow my people to pass. When the Egyptians tried to follow, the waves closed over their heads and they all drowned."

"That's incredible!" I exclaim. "Please tell me more about your God. How did you come to know Him?"

"He first spoke to Moses from a burning bush," Salmon tells me. "His name is represented by the letters 'YHWH', but it is too sacred to be pronounced. We call Him 'Adonai', which means 'Lord'."

"Many years ago, before the days of Moses even, Adonai made a covenant with our ancestor Abraham. He promised Abraham that his descendants would number as great as the sands of the sea, and that He would provide a land for them to be their permanent home. That's why our males are called 'sons of the covenant' and our females are called 'daughters of the covenant'."

"Then does Adonai care only for the Hebrews?" I ask him.

"Not at all," he tells me. "We are all His creation, and He loves us all, but He has chosen us, the children of Israel, to be His people, that the rest of the world may come to know him through us."

I ponder Salmon's words deep into the night. It is obvious that I have much to learn about these people who have accepted me as one of their own.


	5. A New Friend

The days pass swiftly. The bond between Salmon and myself deepens. We spend many happy hours together, working, going for walks, sitting by the fireplace chatting. I show him the tree I used to sit by beside the brook, and he carves some symbols into it with a sharp rock. I want to ask him what they mean but don't want to seem intrusive.

As I become more fluent in the language of the Hebrews, I get to know many of them much better, especially Achsah. She tells me of her childhood growing up in the encampment, of her father, Caleb, of whom she speaks with pride.

"He and Joshua were amongst the original twelve spies sent by Moses into Canaan," she tells me. "Of the twelve, only my father and Joshua returned with a positive report. The other ten were opposed to invading the land, claiming that it would be impossible to conquer. As punishment for their lack of faith, my people had to wander in the desert for an additional forty years until all that generation had died out except for my father and Joshua."

"And what became of Moses?" I ask her.

"When my people came to Meribah, they grumbled against Moses because of the lack of water," she tells me. "Moses appealed to Adonai, and the Lord told him to speak to the rock at Horeb. In anger Moses struck the rock twice rather than speaking to it, and as punishment he was not allowed to enter the promised land. He gazed upon it from atop Mount Pisgah, and then he died and was buried by Adonai."

"There are indeed fearful consequences for disobeying the word of your God," I remark.

"Yet wonderful rewards for trusting and obeying Him," she replies. "Just ask my father. No one knows that better than he does."

I think of the aged Caleb, then of my own father. He has always been merely a simple man, going along with the customs of the times, not necessarily approving of them but never protesting them either. What would have become of him and the rest of my family had I never sheltered the two spies when they came to us seeking aid? Would they now number amongst the broken and bleeding bodies so recently buried in mass graves? The thought makes me shudder inwardly.

"Salmon desires you as his wife." Achsah smiles knowingly at me. "I suspect he'll probably ask your father for your hand in marriage any day now."

"Do you really think so?" I ask her.

"I _know _so." She laughs. "I only hope that my own betrothal follows soon afterwards."

"Is there one you desire as your husband?" Suddenly I am very curious.

She nods. "His name is Othniel. His father is my Uncle Kenaz, so he's my cousin."

I am vaguely acquainted with Othniel. He is a friend of Salmon's. So such consanguineous matings are acceptable to the Hebrews as they are to my own people, I reflect. As they _were _to my own people, I correct myself. I find it so difficult to think of them in the past tense.

"My father has promised my hand in marriage to the man who is able to raise up an army to conquer the city of Debir," Achsah continues. "Othniel has spoken of it. I truly hope that he is able to do it."

"For your sake, I hope that he shall be as well," I tell her. She smiles warmly and squeezes my hand.


	6. True Love

The next time I see Salmon, he looks pensive.

"There is something very important I must discuss with you," he tells me. He sounds very serious, and I feel the tiniest prickle of fear at the base of my spine. Have I in some way displeased him, displeased his people?

He apparently senses my trepidation, for he touches my hand gently and smiles at me reassuringly. "You have nothing to fear," he says. "You see..." He takes my hands into his own and looks earnestly into my eyes. "I love you, Rahab. It is my intention to ask your father for your hand in marriage, but I wanted to discuss it with you first and find out how you feel."

I suddenly find that I am blinking back tears. "You could love me, a woman not born of your own people?"

"You are a woman of virtue and honor," Salmon tells me. "It matters not to me that your blood is foreign. You cannot help that fact. It is who you are inside that matters to me, and the woman you are inside is one I have come to treasure greatly."

"Oh, Salmon, you have made me so happy!" I exclaim. He grins and hugs me tightly.

My father agrees to the match right away, of course. Nothing would secure my family's quite recently attained position amongst the Hebrews like a marriage between myself and one of their most prominent members.

Achsah sees my smile and guesses my news immediately. "I told you so!" she crows.

Salmon and I are wed in a joyous ceremony soon afterwards. Each of us takes a sip from a single cup of wine, and tambourine music and circle dancing, in which everyone joins hands, follow. It is the first time I have seen my mother smile since the destruction of Jericho. Across from myself and Salmon, I see Othniel and Achsah holding hands and gazing into one another's eyes.

"Today you look more beautiful than ever before to me," Salmon says to me that night as we sit together alone in our new home for the first time. He cradles my chin in his hands as he gazes lovingly into my eyes.

"Today has been the happiest day of my life," I reply. "I hope that I shall always please you and make you proud to call me your wife."

We know one another for the first time. He is very gentle, concerned with not hurting me, seeking how best to give me pleasure. My heart swells with love for him as my body responds eagerly to his loving ministrations. Afterwards we lay in one another's arms, basking in our newly found happiness until sleep overtakes us both.

* * *

Soon afterwards, Othniel gathers together a band of courageous men to invade Debir. Salmon volunteers to go. I cannot help but feel reluctant as I watch him prepare to leave.

"Rahab, my love," he tells me. "I see that there is fear in your eyes. Please remember that Adonai has promised to deliver this land into our hands as well, and that the others and I are all under His protection. I shall return safely to you, beloved wife."

"I do not doubt your words, dear husband," I tell him. "I shall eagerly await your return."

The day seems to pass very slowly. My words to Salmon were true, yet I wouldn't be human if my heart didn't yearn for the man I love as I know that he is venturing forth to face danger.

As the Hebrew army returns victorious yet again, I don't have to search for long to find Salmon. I see that he and several other men are bearing the jubilant Othniel home on their shoulders. They set Othniel down, and he immediately runs into the waiting arms of Achsah.

"Debir is ours!" he tells her joyfully.

I feel Salmon's arms around me, his hand cradling my head to his chest.

"I am so happy to see you again!" I murmur. He holds my face in his hands as he gazes at me, his eyes twinkling. "You were just a little bit worried, were you not?"

"Well..." I say hesitantly. He laughs and hugs me tightly.

"I am happy for Achsah," I tell him. "Now Othniel may have her hand in marriage, as her father Caleb has promised."

"I am happy for them as well," he tells me. He takes my hand, and we walk back to our home. I cannot wait to be held in his arms tonight.


	7. Boaz

The wedding of Othniel and Achsah takes place soon afterwards. Achsah looks radiant as she stands beside her bridegroom. Salmon and I join hands and dance in a circle with the others, as we did when we ourselves were wed not so terribly long ago.

Several months later, I realize that my life is about to change again, in a very significant way. Subtle but real changes are occurring in my body that let me know that something very important, very special, will happen soon.

Salmon looks at me with a question in his eyes one morning.

"Husband, I believe that your child is growing within my womb," I tell him.

He gives a whoop of joy, picks me up and spins me around, then sets me back down very gently. "Thanks be to Adonai," he whispers.

Within months I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that it is true. I no longer bleed every month, and my belly has become swollen. One day I feel the faint stirrings of my child moving within me and am filled with awe and wonder. I place Salmon's hand on my abdomen so that he can feel our child's movements as well.

"I am so excited and happy that I am soon to be a father," he tells me. "And there is no other woman whom I'd rather have as the mother of my child than you."

Warmed by his words, I reflect that I have been blessed indeed that I have been chosen by him, that I have been the one to capture his heart. In the destruction of the only life I have ever known, I have found not only a new one but also a fulfillment of my deepest dream, a happiness beyond my wildest imagination. I look forward eagerly to the birth of my child, the physical evidence of the bond of love which Salmon and I share.

My labor pains begin late one evening. At first mild, they grow stronger and stronger. Salmon runs to fetch the midwife, quickly returning. I beg him not to leave me until after our child is born, and he promises to remain by my side.

The pains grow worse. Salmon massages my back and moistens my face with a damp cloth. After many hours there is still no sign of an imminent birth. Salmon assures me that all is well but is unable to disguise the genuine worry in his eyes.

In the early hours of the morning, our son is born at last. He is a beautiful baby, the spitting image of his father. We name him Boaz.

* * *

Boaz grows to be a bright, inquisitive child. By his first birthday he is walking, by his second he can say many words, and by his third he speaks fluently. Salmon begins to train him in the ways of the Hebrew people and of their God. As much of it is still quite new to me, my son and I learn together.

I tell Boaz nothing of the fallen city of Jericho, of my own origins, of those I once knew who are no more. It is all in the distant past now, buried deeply within the recesses of my memory. Every so often, something happens that brings my old life once again to mind: the way the sunlight slants in through the cracks in the window in the early morning, the sound of rain on the roof.

Several years after the birth of Boaz, I give birth to twin daughters. Salmon and I name them Chaya, which means 'life', and Simcha, which means 'joy.'


	8. Ruth And Obed

Boaz grows to be a man of strength and integrity, much like his father. He invests in land and becomes quite wealthy. One day he comes to visit me with news

"Today I noticed a woman I've never seen before gleaning grain from my fields," he tells me.

I am not surprised, as it is common practice for the indigent to gather the grain in the field left behind by the threshers.

"I am intrigued by her, Mother," Boaz continues. "She is young and beautiful, so much so that one wonders how she came to be in such dire straits. I suspect that she is not of our people, as was your situation. I shall inquire about her."

I am shocked. Boaz sees the look on my face and understands.

"Father told me of your origins in Jericho long ago, Mother." He takes my hands and looks tenderly into my eyes. At that moment he reminds me so much of his father that I feel myself melting inside. "It is nothing to be ashamed of. You cannot help the circumstances of your birth. The only thing that matters is that you are one of us now, and have been for a long time."

The next time I see my son, he has more news of the mysterious woman. "Her name is Ruth, and she is a Moabitess," he tells me. "Her husband died, and she has accompanied her mother-in-law, Naomi, back to Bethlehem."

Over the next few weeks, I see that Boaz has become increasingly besotted with Ruth, leaving extra grain in the field for her to harvest and keeping protective watch over her. I become acquainted with Ruth and Naomi as well, and am impressed by the devotion the younger woman shows the older widow. I can tell that it touches Boaz as well.

One day my son confesses to me that he is in love with Ruth and intends to marry her. The wedding takes place shortly afterwards. I embrace Ruth and tell her that I am honored to have her as a daughter.

Less than a year later, Boaz and Ruth's son, Obed, is born. Naomi holds our mutual grandson proudly. "The line of Elimelech is preserved," she proclaims. My family and I all rejoice in the birth of this special child who has brought us all together.

_Now these are the generations of Perez: to Perez was born Hezron, and to Hezron was born Ram, and to Ram, Amminadab, and to Amminadab was born Nahshon, and to Nahshon, Salmon, and to Salmon was born Boaz, and to Boaz, Obed, and to Obed was born Jesse, and to Jesse, David. (Ruth 4: 18-22, New American Standard Bible.)_


End file.
